Sisterchicks in Gondolas! by Robin Jones Gunn Read Free Book Online

don’t remember.” Sue was on my heels now. “So, where’s the door?”
    “Here.” I tried to lean back to give her space to wedge in beside me. “Can you feel this ancient latch? I can’t figure out how to make it open.”
    Sue reached up, and we worked together in the dark, our hands tangling together, as we tried to figure out the medieval lock. We somehow managed to turn it just the right way and were rewarded with a promising click.
    “Should we open it?” Sue said.
    “Of course. Come on. On the count of three, push.”
    Blinding midday sunlight gushed into our narrow cavern and caused us both to look away. Instant heat flooded the cooled space and invited us to take the final steps to the roof. I climbed out onto the sunroof and shielded my eyes from the intense brightness.
    “Sweet peaches! Look at this.” Sue emerged right behind me. “It’s like our own secret hideaway.”
    The flat area was only about ten feet long and maybe six feet wide. It was level and had drainage holes in the side of the raised wall that was about four feet high and protected the open space on three sides. The fourth side was the elevated extension of the roof that went up another six feet or so and had various odd looking spouts and vents cut into the red tiles.
    “I feel like we’re on top of the world.” Sue’s handshielded her eyes from the direct sun as she surveyed our surroundings. “This is incredible!”
    “It is.” We could see over the side of our building into the small square that formed the only open space between our apartment building’s backside and the other three buildings. In the center of the cobblestone square stood an old well that had been capped. It was easy to picture life in this small, secluded piazza hundreds of years ago. The women would come to the well while the children tagged along and played games. Their cries and laughter would have echoed off the buildings. I imagined this as a happy corner of Venice.
    “Look over there.” Sue pointed to the neighboring buildings that also formed a square. “They have trees.”
    Sue was right. Sprouting up to rooftop level was an immense tree or perhaps several trees that spread their green goodness in a comforting canopy. We’d already seen at Campo Apostoli how rare trees in Venice were and how shade was at a premium.
    Straight ahead of where we stood, beyond the rows of red-tiled rooftops and tall, saffron-colored buildings, we could see blue water. In the midday brilliance the blue wasn’t the playful aqua I’d seen that morning on the Grand Canal. This blue was deep and brooding. It was the blue of the Venice lagoon where waters from the Adriatic Sea flowed in to greet this fleet of anchored islands. Sue took in the sweeping vista of our quiet neighborhood. “This is amazing.”
    “It is!”
    “I’m having a hard time comprehending how all these buildings, all these huge, intricate structures, have been here for hundreds of years and are built on man-made, or at least man-assisted, islands. The buildings look like a row of dominos, don’t they? Take one frontline building, tip it far enough, and the whole row of structures could crumble into the sea.”
    “I know,” I agreed. “It’s all so precarious, yet so settled and established. What a strange and wonderful place.”
    “Well, Nancy Drew, it seems you have another mystery to solve. How does Venice keep from falling into the sea?”
    I leaned against the edge of the roof ridge and thought for a moment. “I have no idea. But you know what amazes me, Sue? I was thinking of this earlier today. Or yesterday, I guess, when I was looking out the plane’s window. I’m amazed that God holds all of this together. Not only Venice, but also earth. And us. Everything could crumble in a flash if God took His hand off us, if He removed His presence. But He doesn’t. He holds everything together.”
    Sue surveyed the ancient world below us. In a quiet voice she said, “I don’t know.